


From the Ashes

by elliephant



Category: D.Gray-man, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Divergence - D.Gray-man Chapter 200, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius Black Lives, the world is on fire so have some self-indulgent bullshit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27433603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliephant/pseuds/elliephant
Summary: "Babysitting. Are you fucking serious?"Komui sighed. On the couch in front of him, Kanda was slumped lazily against one arm, scowling hard. In contrast, Alma Karma sat ramrod straight, staring at Komui with uncomfortable intensity. Their hands were tangled in the space between them."Technically," Alma said, "it's bodyguarding."After Voldemort's resurrection, Dumbledore enlists Exorcists from the Black Order to serve as protection for Harry Potter. Komui sends Kanda Yuu and newly-recovered Alma Karma to do the job.
Relationships: Alma Karma & Harry Potter, Kanda Yuu & Harry Potter, Kanda Yuu/Alma Karma
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the world is on fire and we're all regressing back to fifth grade so here's a self-indulgent dgm/hp crossover like it's 2010.
> 
> this work is inspired by every single dgm/hp crossover and in fact a number of fma/hp crossovers and also lowkey a yu yu hakusho/hp crossover. this is not an original idea.

"Babysitting. Are you fucking serious?"

Komui sighed. On the couch in front of him, Kanda was slumped lazily against one arm, scowling hard. In contrast, Alma Karma sat ramrod straight, staring at Komui with uncomfortable intensity. Their hands were tangled in the space between them.

"Technically," Alma said, "it's bodyguarding."

Kanda huffed, but it was a gentler sound than Komui was used to hearing from him. The mission itself was simple enough: suspected Innocence at a boarding school in the Scottish highlands. The only hiccup was that the school was a Wizarding school, and they had never been able to send Exorcists to infiltrate it before. This time though, the headmaster had requested Exorcists specifically, to act as protection for one of their students. According to the Church's information, the student was a target for a terrorist cell that was coming back into power. It was the perfect in, and the headmaster had even acquiesed to letting them search the school. Sending two of their younger Exorcists was an easy decision, and it seemed like the kind of easy mission that would be perfect to acclimate Alma to being an Exorcist. But in truth...

"I'll be honest with you," Komui said quietly. "This is a long-term mission, and it would be best to get the two of you out of Headquarters for as long as possible. Especially you, Alma."

Alma's gaze finally cut away, lips pressed into a tight, pale line. Kanda's tightened his grip on Alma's hand as he straightened, his scowl turning into a dangerous glare.

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Kanda said, his voice pitched low.

"Yuu," Alma said quietly. He was about the same height and breadth as Kanda, but in that moment he seemed shrunken down, small.

"Look, I know what happened in North America wasn't your fault," Komui said gently, but Alma flinched anyway. "But everything's still tense here, and it would be for the best if you were out of the way for a little while."

 _Tense_ was putting it mildly. Rooms hushed when Alma entered, eyes turning hostile. The Finders and other support staff gave him a wide berth. Even Jerry, who was normally warm and enthused to serve everyone, treated Alma with cold courtesy. Komui suspected the only reason things hadn't escalated was Kanda, a looming, menacing sort of guardian angel always at Alma's side. The prevailing opinion was that Alma should have been put down, and the only reason he wasn't was because the Order was desperate for soldiers.

"No, I understand," Alma said. "Besides, it'll be a good chance to see the world, won't it?"

Alma was smiling when he looked up. It was a strained at the edges, but it was enough to make Kanda relax a fraction.

Komui smiled back, allowing himself to relax in turn. He passed the two Exorcists their mission files.

"You'll be meeting the headmaster and the student before the school year starts. The headmaster will brief you further on the situation."

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. You're expected in Scotland by evening."

With that, Komui dismissed them with a casual wave. He watched Kanda sweep out of the room, tugging Alma along with him. Komui had his apprehensions about Dumbledore, about Hogwarts, about even Alma. But Kanda had nine years of experience, and Komui trusted him to get this done.

  
  


—

  
  


Dinner at Grimmauld Place was as chaotic as any meal at the Burrow. After a summer of dieting with the Dursleys, Harry was glad for Mrs. Weasley's hearty cooking, even if it came hurtling out of the kitchen at dangerous speeds.

"GEORGE!" Mrs Weasley yelled as a pot of soup sailed into the dining room and crashed onto the table. "FOR THE LAST TIME!"

A bowl of mashed potatoes came in next, nearly knocking Harry on the head on its way.

"FRED! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HARRY!"

"Aw, Mum!" Fred said, "Harry's fine! He ducked!"

And so on. Harry didn't mind. He would never get used to casual magic like this, dishes and place settings floating through the air. He flashed a grin at Sirius who was seated beside him. Sirius grinned back. Lupin, seated across from them, clapped politely when the meatloaf landed cleanly at the center of the table.

"Thank Merlin the two of you won't be underfoot all year," Mrs. Weasley said, shooing the twins out of the kitchen. They were grinning, unrepentant, as they took their seats by Ron and Ginny. The two younger Weasleys were trying to fight their smiles under their mother's disapproving glare, but Hermione looked just as disapproving as the Weasley matriarch.

"No harm, no foul, Molly," Lupin said calmly.

Mrs. Weasley huffed.

"There was very nearly harm," she said. "Are you alright, Harry, dear?"

"Fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

"Besides," Mrs. Weasley said, "being old enough to use magic out of school means you should be mature enough to know when _not_ to."

Whatever Mrs. Weasley meant to say next — and she had that look that meant she definitely had something to say next — was cut off by the doorbell and the screaming from Mrs. Black's portrait.

"TRAITORS AND FILTH! DISGRACING THE HOUSE OF MY ANCESTORS!"

Sirius shoved himself away from the table with a hot swear. He ignored Mrs. Weasley's reprimand in favor of storming out of the dining room and up to the landing. Lupin followed close behind, headed to the door. Over the noise of Mrs. Black shouting and Sirius shouting back, Harry could faintly hear Lupin:

"Ah, Severus," Lupin said. "And you two must be for Harry."

Harry shared a look with Ron and Hermione. Snape was here? And what did Lupin mean, _you two must be for Harry_? For a brief, terrible moment, Harry thought that maybe they were from the Ministry. Something had gone wrong, the ruling from the hearing was overturned, and someone had come to snap Harry's wand after all. But Lupin wouldn't be so calm about that, and no way would Dumbledore tell Ministry officials about Grimmauld Place.

The people who entered the dining room behind Snape and Lupin didn't look like Ministry officials. In fact, they didn't look like any wizards Harry had ever seen. They were dressed in black coats, not robes, with red trim and silver buttons, a stylized cross emblazoned on their chests. The outfits looked like uniforms, but for what, Harry didn't know. One of them — the one with a scar across his nose, not the one with hair longer than Bill's — caught Harry's eye and smiled.

The room fell abruptly quiet as Sirius finally managed to silence Mrs. Black.

"Are these—?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Snape nodded.

"The protection for Potter," he said. "Alma Karma and Yuu Kanda."

"Just Kanda," said the one with the long hair.

 _Protection?_ Harry thought, _For me?_

"A little late, aren't you, Snape?" Sirius asked as he re-entered the dining room.

"Some of us have responsibilities, Black," Snape snarled back.

Sirius said nothing, immediately taken by the two strangers, Harry's so-called protection. He gave a low, appreciative whistle.

"I didn't know Dumbledore had connections with the Black Order," he said.

"You're Exorcists?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "You look a little young."

The long-haired one scowled.

"We're Exorcists," he said.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, "at least we know Dumbledore's taking Harry's safety seriously. Will you be staying for dinner, Severus?"

Several things happened in short order: Snape declined dinner, citing Order business, and left. Sirius and Lupin took their seats again. Mrs. Weasley conjured up two more place settings and ushered the two newcomers to the table. Someone passed Harry the potatoes. Before Harry knew it, dinner was back underway as if Snape had never interrupted.

"The Black Order has never involved themselves with Wizarding affairs before," said Sirius, "so why now?"

The two shrugged.

"We just got the orders," said Kanda.

"Which were what, exactly?" Sirius asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"We're to accompany Harry Potter to Hogwarts, to serve as additional protection against Voldemort. The need for our presence will be re-evaluated at the end of the school year," said Alma. His bright eyes turned to Harry. "And that must be you?"

Harry nodded.

"The Black Order is sending Exorcists out as bodyguards now?" Sirius asked.

Another set of shrugs.

"You don't question orders."

"What's the Black Order?" asked Hermione. "I can't imagine that you're like Muggle exorcists. Are you like Aurors?"

Kanda smirked. "Better."

"Better than Aurors?" Harry asked dubiously.

"The Black Order is elite," said Sirius. "You won't find better fighters than their Exorcists."

"Aren't you a little young to be elite fighters?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," said George. "I always thought Exorcists were meant to be, y'know, grizzled, like Moody. You barely look older than us!"

"We're nineteen," said Kanda, blandly.

"Nineteen!" said Mrs. Weasley. "That's barely out of school!"

"Oh, we're well-trained," said Alma. "You don't have to worry about that." He flashed a smile that was probably meant to be more reassuring than it was.

"Molly," said Lupin, "Sirius and I were nineteen during the First War. It's not that young."

Harry supposed it _was_ that young, actually. Nineteen was only a year older than Percy, two years older than Cedric. Harry couldn't imagine what kind of training they could have, or what kind of protection these boys could give him. Whatever an Exorcist was, the other wizards in the room seemed to believe they were skilled enough, but Harry couldn't quite do the same.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, "Dumbledore wouldn't send unqualified people to protect Harry."

Harry shared a look with Hermione and the Weasley children. They hadn't forgotten about Gilderoy Lockhart. But that seemed to settle it for Mrs. Weasley.

After dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to the boys' room, while the twins and Ginny disappeared to the floor above. Mrs. Weasley had set up the two Exorcists in the room beside Harry and Ron's. The three of them pressed close to the shared wall, trying to listen in.

"This house is so strange, huh, Yuu?" Alma's voice drifted, muffled, through the wall.

Whatever the other Exorcist said was too quiet for them to hear.

Alma laughed, but sobered quickly.

"They don't seem prepared for war, do they?" That was Alma again.

"It's barely war," said Kanda.

Harry bristled at his dismissiveness. Two months ago he'd been tortured by Voldemort himself and watched as his classmate was murdered. Wasn't that war? Who was this boy to say it wasn't?

"Still," said Alma. "And they're putting all this focus on one boy. What kind—"

A knock cut off the rest of what Alma said. Harry, Ron, and Hermione scrambled back from the wall as Sirius entered the room. Sirius eyed them where they were tumbled over themselves between Harry and Ron's beds, but said nothing.

"Sirius, what—?"

Sirius gestured Harry quiet. He shut the door and cast a quick, wordless spell. The walls shimmered gently in response.

"Now they won't overhear us," he said.

"Won't overhear what?" Hermione asked. She picked herself up off the floor and sat on Harry's bed. The boys scrambled up after her.

"Be on your guard with them," Sirius said, tilting his head to the wall.

"What?" Ron asked. "Aren't they on our side?"

"I don't know what you've heard, Ron," Sirius said, "but the Black Order is never on anyone's side but their own."

"You said they didn't get involved in the First War," Hermione said.

Sirius nodded.

"They didn't even get involved when Grindelwald was on the rise," he said.

"What _is_ the Black Order?" Harry asked.

"Mum says they fight Dark magic," Ron said.

Sirius nodded.

"Supposedly they're a branch of the Church," he said. "It's said they have a mandate to fight against some Dark force, but no one knows for sure what they do."

"If they fight Dark magic," Hermione said, "why wouldn't they get involved against You-Know-Who? Or even Grindelwald?"

"Not just Dark magic," Sirius said, "something truly _Dark._ Darker than wizards."

"Maybe Voldemort is Dark enough for them now," Harry said. Rising from the dead seemed pretty Dark to him.

"Maybe," Sirius said. "But I'd bet they have their own agenda in sending Exorcists to Hogwarts."

"But Dumbledore sent for them," said Ron. "Doesn't that mean they're trustworthy?"

"I don't know what strings Dumbledore had to pull to arrange this," Sirius said. "You can trust them to protect you, Harry, but nothing else."

Sirius' ominous warning stayed with Harry, but there wasn't much time to think about the Black Order or the mysterious boys they sent to protect him. Mrs. Weasley kept them busy cleaning out rooms, and Kanda and Alma mostly kept to themselves and out of the way. Harry rarely saw them leave their room, except for meals and the occasional Order meeting. During meals, Mrs. Weasley put a stop to questions from her inquisitive offspring, and the twins weren't having any luck eavesdropping on the meetings. Hermione had tried to corner them for answers, but Alma had just smiled apologetically and said, "I can't really talk about it." Kanda, on the other hand, scowled so deeply that Hermione shrank away.

Eavesdropping on Kanda and Alma alone didn't turn up anything either. Fred and George spent many nights with their Extendable Ears hung from the window directly above their room, trying to hear what they could.

"They don't really talk to each other about the Black Order," Fred had said. "Just making plans for the school year."

"Whatever training they have, it's not like school," George had said. "We heard them arguing over second year Transfigurations."

"Well," Hermione had said dubiously, "it's not like turning porcupines into pincushions will help against You-Know-Who or Death Eaters."

It was what happened with the boggart that eased Harry's concerns.

  
  


—

  
  


The party celebrating Ron and Hermione making prefect was still in full swing when Harry ducked upstairs. He was unsettled after seeing that old photograph of the first Order of the Phoenix, all those people forever frozen unaware of what was going to happen. Is that what they looked like now, he thought, celebrating something as mundane as prefectship when Voldemort was on the rise?

The sound of sobbing dragged him from his thoughts.

"Hello?" he called out.

The sobbing continued.

Harry followed the sound to the second-floor study, where he found someone huddled against the wall and — he stopped. Ron was splayed out on the floor, glassy eyes staring vacantly back at Harry. But that couldn't be. Ron was downstairs, Harry had just seen him talking Tonks' ear off about the Cleansweep.

"Ridikulus!" cried the huddled figure. It was Mrs. Weasley. With her incantation, Ron's body — the boggart from the desk drawer, Harry realized — was suddenly Bill's body, lying just as limp and dead-eyed. Mrs. Weasly sobbed harder.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Harry said, "Get out of here! Someone else can—"

"Ridikulus!" Mrs. Weasley cast again, and there was another sharp crack as Bill's body turned into Mr. Weasley's.

"R-RIDIKULUS!"

"Mrs. Weasley—!"

Crack! The boggart became Percy.

"RIDIKULUS! RIDIKULUS!"

Harry stood, frozen, as the body turned into Ginny, then Fred. Mrs. Weasley continued to sob. Harry could see her wand trembling as she kept trying to cast. Dead Fred turned into dead George turned into dead Harry.

"What is going _on_ up here?!"

The room shifted abruptly as Harry was shoved out of the doorway. He landed roughly on his side, his glasses slipping off his nose. He righted them in time to see one of the Exorcists, Kanda, step smoothly between Mrs. Weasley and the boggart. The boggart shuddered and in the blink of an eye Harry's corpse was replaced with a tangled mass of cracked flesh that just barely resembled a body. Instead of legs, there was a fused column of pulsing viscera. A pair of wings lay spread out underneath its torso, featherless and looking more like old stone than something animal. Its face was disturbingly human-looking, but its eyes were too large and entirely black. There was a faint slash across the bridge of its nose. It wheezed. The heave of its chest turned Harry's stomach.

Kanda walked calmly to the creature, a red sword gleaming in his hand. Where had it come from? In one swift motion, he severed the creature's head. The boggart slowly disintegrated, until there was only a pile of grey dust on the carpet, arranged in a sort of person-shaped outline. _At least cleaning that up will be someone else's problem,_ Harry thought, _we're going to Hogwarts tomorrow._

A hand on his elbow brought him back to himself. He flinched, but it was only Sirius, who he let help him to his feet. Sirius was still staring at where the boggart had been, and at the Exorcist standing over its remains. The sword, Harry noticed, was gone. Not sheathed or tucked away, but simply gone, like Kanda had never been holding anything at all.

Lupin pressed past them to get to Mrs. Weasley. Harry hadn't even noticed his presence. In the hallway behind Sirius stood Moody and the other Exorcist, Alma, both with their eyes trained on Kanda. Moody's face was unreadable, but Alma looked like he was about to cry.

"It's alright, Molly," Lupin was saying, "it was only a boggart."

This sent Mrs. Weasley into a fresh round of sobs.

"I see them dead all the time!" she cried. "All the time! I dream about it!"

Lupin handed her a handkerchief, and she used it to mop furiously at his eyes.

"I'm just so worried," Mrs. Weasley said. "Half the family's in the Order, it'll be a miracle if we all come through this—"

Kanda's scoff cut her off. All the eyes in the room turned to him. He stood unconcerned, running his hands over his front as if to get the dust off.

"You're in a war," Kanda said. "People die in wars."

"Yuu," Alma said quietly from behind Harry.

"It's a fact," Kanda continued. "You have to accept that."

With that, he swept out of the study. Harry watched him stop briefly by Alma before continuing down the hall. Alma stood still a moment longer before following Kanda. The door to their room closed with a solid _thunk._

"I won't tell you no one's gonna get hurt," Lupin said into the ensuing quiet. "But we're much better off than we were the first time, with Death Eaters outnumbering us twenty to one..."

"I know I'm just being silly," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Alright, Harry?" Sirius asked, squeezing his elbow gently.

Harry nodded. "Alright."

Sirius squeezed his elbow once more and guided him out of the room. He could still hear Mrs. Weasley sniffling into Lupin's handkerchief. Harry didn't feel quite alright, though. Later that night, lying in bed, he thought about what Kanda had said, and couldn't find himself to think that Mrs. Weasley was being silly. The sight of the Weasleys' corpses kept flashing behind his eyes, mixed with the sight of whatever creature Kanda's boggart was. _It's a fact_ , Kanda had said, _You have to accept that._ Could he accept that? He bit back at the realization that it probably didn't matter if he could. War was coming, and it didn't care.

  
  


—

  
  


Kanda woke the morning of September 1st curled tightly around Alma. He was asleep, then awake, in the span of a breath. The strange wizard house was still silent around them, but it was a heavy, uneasy kind of silence. He'd felt on edge since they first stepped into Number 12, Grimmauld Place a week ago. Even alone in their room, it felt like they were being watched. Alma had said that the house was probably haunted, and Kanda hadn't been able to say it wasn't. After his run-in with the shapeshifting creature last night, Kanda might even say Alma was right. He buried his nose into the crook of Alma's neck. The creature last night... the thing that turned into Alma's warped, twisted body, before he'd been able to fight off the effects of the akuma core. Kanda had never truly dealt with the Wizarding World before, wasn't familiar with their monsters. He hadn't been prepared to see that, to be reminded of how close he'd come to losing Alma a second time.

He felt the moment when Alma woke up.

"We're going to the school today," Alma said.

Kanda hummed.

They were. They'd been able to see the school, briefly, when they met with Headmaster Dumbledore at the start of the mission. A grim, sallow-skinned man had met them at the train station in Hogsmeade and escorted them through the castle to Dumbledore's office. The meeting was quick, and soon they had been whisked away to purchase school supplies, accompanied by the same man who they'd learned was named Severus Snape. They hadn't gotten to search the grounds then, but the castle hummed with power that had to be Innocence. They would be at the school for ten months, which should be more than enought time to search. From their briefing with Dumbledore, and the two meetings with the Order of the Phoenix, he'd gathered that they wouldn't be too busy watching Harry Potter. The school itself was heavily warded, and they were _just a precaution,_ as Dumbledore had said. The greatest window for danger would be when they moved Potter to the school today, but Kanda wasn't particularly worried. According to the information gathered by the Order of the Phoenix, Voldemort was still laying low, and it was unlikely he or his followers would make a move today. Still, he could feel the anticipation curl in his gut.

"We should get ready," Alma said. He made no move to get out of bed.

Kanda hummed again. He extracted himself from Alma with great reluctance. They got ready in the muggy morning light, packing away their Exorcist uniforms into the bottom of their trunks with their inactivated golems. The missive they'd sent to Komui the night before would be the last using the golems, at least until they were off school grounds again. The golems didn't work at the school, as they learned a week before, and were too conspicuous besides. Instead, they'd picked up an owl. Kanda didn't really have a fondness for animals, and hadn't wanted the added chore of caring for it. Alma, on the other hand, was thrilled. He'd cooed at the bird, stroked its tawny feathers and let it nibble at his fingertips, promised it treats before they'd sent it ahead to the school. Alma had never seen an owl before. Kanda wondered if he'd be able to keep it once the mission was over.

When they finally made their way to the dining room, dressed in civilian clothes with their wands up their sleeves, they found Mrs. Weasley setting out breakfast. She smiled at them. Kanda's skin crawled unpleasantly but he nodded at her in acknowledgement. She'd warmed to them after the first meeting, but Kanda found her attention stifling. Alma had borne it with better grace, accepted her attention with a polite smile, but Kanda had seen the discomfort in the tense set of his shoulders.

"I don't think anyone's ever been nice to me without expecting something," Alma had said to him about Mrs. Weasley, their first night at Grimmauld Place. Alma didn't trust that kindness.

"No one's ever nice without expecting something," Kanda had replied. "Whether they know it or not."

Alma had hummed, thoughtfully.

"Allen was," he'd said, at length.

Kanda had snorted.

"We're friends," he'd said, although he'd rather cut off his arm than acknowledge it to Walker's face, "that's different."

"And these people aren't our friends," Alma had said, and that had been that.

Under the direct attention of Mrs. Weasley's pleasantness this morning, Kanda could see the sleepy ease disappear from Alma's frame.

"Good morning!" Mrs. Weasley said, "You're up early."

"We're soldiers," Kanda said.

When they were children, Alma would have chided him for his rudeness. Now, he just sighed.

"Good morning," Alma said with a smile. "Is everything ready for today?"

Mrs. Weasley had wilted a little at Kanda's blunt response, but seemed to come back to herself in the face of Alma's gentle smile.

"Oh, yes," she said, "We'll be leaving as soon as the last of the guard arrive."

Privately, Kanda still thought that a full guard was more trouble than it was worth, too conspicuous. He'd mentioned it to the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, but had been shot down.

"We didn't ask you here for input on strategy," Moody had growled. "Besides, better conspicuous and guarded than discreet and completely vulnerable."

They allowed Mrs. Weasley to ply them with breakfast, and settled in to wait. The house came alive around them in fits and starts, other wizards trickling into the dining room. Most of the guard had been at the party last night, and had simply stayed over. And that was another thing Kanda found baffling: throwing a party when they claimed to be at war. They hadn't even won anything, had no victory to celebrate. It was just for some school position. The frivolity of it was so pointless, and only served to further drive home how ill-equipped these people were.

Despite its much smaller size, or maybe because of it, the Order of the Phoenix didn't have the discipline or logistical organization of the Black Order. The teenagers woke late and descended in a flurry of activity and shouting. There was a near casualty when one of the twins sent a trunk flying down the stairs and hit his sister. The last guard never showed up, which set Kanda's teeth on edge. And to top it all off, the wanted fugitive insisted on coming with them.

 _Needless risk_ , Kanda thought to himself as they walked from the house to the train station. He kept an eye out for trouble, but mostly he watched Alma take in the city. When they'd arrived, it had been under the cover of night, with no time to see the sights. Now, in the morning light, the city seemed an entirely different creature. Streams of pedestrians, cyclists, the harsh sound of traffic as people went about their day. It was altogether too crowded for comfort, but Alma seemed enthralled. He was on guard, of course, Kanda could see the tense set of his shoulders, but the way his eyes darted around was less wary soldier and more excited tourist. Alma had never seen a city before.

"Is this your first time in London?" Potter asked, catching the way Alma gawked.

Alma nodded.

"I haven't done a lot of travelling," he said.

"Wait 'til we get to Hogwarts," Potter said, "bet you've never seen anything like it."

Alma gave a small hum, which turned into a surprised laugh when he saw the big black dog that was the fugitive in disguise. The dog was chasing a cat into an alley, snapping his teeth as the cat scampered up a fire escape and out of sight. The dog circled the bottom of the fire escape for a while, chasing his own tail, then loped back to them, tongue lolling.

Something in Kanda clenched at the sound. Alma hadn't laughed much since he woke up after North America, not like he had when they were children. But then, Alma had never seen a dog chase a cat before.

They continued on like that, the dog doing tricks and chasing cats to the sound of Potter and Alma's laughter, while Mrs. Weasley looked on in distaste. The other guard, Tonks, looked like she could barely keep from laughing herself. Their oddball group didn't stick out as much as Kanda had thought they would among the throngs of people, and they stuck out even less once they finally made it to Platform 9 3/4.

Once they made it through the barrier, Kanda and Alma broke off from the group. As the Order of the Phoenix had discussed, it would only draw unnecessary attention if Potter having bodyguards became common knowledge. Instead, Kanda and Alma were to present themselves as any other students, boarding the train to school. While Potter and the other children said their goodbyes, he and Alma began walking the length of the train, peeking into compartments as they went along. They weren't expecting trouble, and they found nothing as they searched. No terrorists, no Dark wizards, just children crammed together on plush seats, laughing and shoving at each other. Kanda's lip curled.

They made it to the end of the train without incident, where they found Potter and the Weasley girl — Ginny? — in one of the last compartments, seated with a blonde girl and a dark-haired boy holding a toad.

Alma stuck his head in.

"Hello!" he said, "Can we sit here?"

The boy dropped his toad.

"Oh, um." The boy cast a nervous glance around the compartment. Ginny (?) shrugged. The blonde girl said nothing, engrossed in her magazine. Potter just gawped at them.

"...Sure?"

Alma grinned. He blustered in, dragging his trunk, and Kanda followed in his wake. Alma wiggled himself into the space between the blonde girl and the window. Kanda stared at Ginny and Potter until they moved and gave him space by the door.

"Er," said the boy, "are you... are you new students? You look a little old to be first years."

"Oh," Alma said breezily, "We're new, yes. We're transferring into fifth year."

"That's our year!" said the boy.

"Hogwarts has never had transfer students before," said the girl. "Are you sure you're not just starting late?"

Alma sent a beseeching look at Kanda.

"We'll be in fifth year," Kanda said.

The blonde girl hummed.

"You'd know better than me," she said, and ducked back behind her magazine.

"Well, um. I'm Neville," said the boy, "Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. Me and Harry — Harry Potter — are fifth years, too, like I said."

He gestured at Potter, who had finally shook off his gawp and was just glancing between Kanda and Alma in obvious confusion. Did no one brief him? Jesus Christ. The Weasley girl at least looked like she understood what was happening.

"That's Ginny Weasley," Longbottom said, "and that's Luna Lovegood. They're both fourth years."

"It's nice to meet you," Alma said. "I'm Alma Karma and that's Yuu Kanda, but he just goes by Kanda."

Kanda nodded in acknowledgement.

"Do you have Houses yet?" asked Longbottom. He had a quick, nervous sort of energy about him that grated on Kanda's nerves.

"We're, ah, Gryffindor? Right, Yuu?" asked Alma.

Kanda nodded.

"We're Gryffindors too!" said Longbottom. "Except for Luna, she's in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure," said Lovegood, dreamily.

"Would you and, ah, Harry, was it? Would you be kind enough to show us around then?" asked Alma.

"Um," Longbottom looked at Kanda and swallowed.

Kanda looked back.

Alma rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry about Yuu," Alma said, "I promise he's nicer than he looks."

"Well, alright," Longbottom said.

"Great!"

Kanda had to admire the way Alma had just integrated them into Potter and Longbottom's group. Despite his nine years of isolation, Alma still had better people skills than Kanda did.

They chattered politely a little longer, which Kanda let Alma field, until that too died off. Potter, Longbottom, and Ginny started some exploding card game. Lovegood stayed hidden behind her magazine, humming quietly at times. Kanda kept a lazy eye on them and one on the corridor, but mostly he watched Alma watch the scenery pass by. Once the conversation had trailed off, Alma had shifted focus entirely to the window. It was the same scenery they'd seen the last time, and Alma had reacted the same way then, too. The wonder was open on his face as he took in the rolling hills and clear blue skies, his eyes wide and bright in a way they'd never been at headquarters. It filled Kanda with equal parts lightness and fury.

Alma caught his gaze in the reflection of the window and cocked a cheeky smile, gorgeous in the late morning light.

Before Alma could say anything, a lady with a food trolley came by the compartment. The teenagers descended on it, picking out armfuls of candy and pastries. Kanda selected the least offensive-looking of the offerings, a meat pie for himself and several for Alma. He also bought some of the less suspicious candy, little boxes of frog-shaped chocolate, also for Alma. They ate quickly, and Alma laughed when the chocolate frogs jumped out of their boxes. The chocolates came with cards, apparently, and Alma passed them on to the others, who seemed interested in collecting them.

Eventually, Granger and the youngest Weasley boy — Ron? Kanda wasn't sure about all the boys — joined them. It was crowded with eight people in the compartment, but Granger and Ron crammed themselves in. Kanda scowled hard when Ron tried to squeeze himself between Kanda and Potter, until Ron stopped trying and squeezed himself instead between Potter and his sister.

The conversation was inane and petty, interrupted briefly by another inane and petty teenager, a blonde boy with the same smug authority that Levellier had. As far as Kanda could tell, he had nothing to prop up that authority aside form the neat little _P_ pinned to his chest. Kanda shared a look with Alma. Was this what regular teenagers talked about? They were expected to put up with ten months of this?

Alma rolled his eyes, amused.

Kanda snorted, catching the attention of the blonde.

"And who're you? I don't think I've seen you two around before," he said.

"We're new," Kanda said. "Transfers."

"Hogwarts has never had transfer students before," he said.

Kanda shrugged, nonchalant.

The boy sniffed.

"Well," he said, "you'll want to be careful about who you associate with."

Kanda and Alma shared another look.

"We'll take that into account," Kanda said.

The boy cast them a hauty look, and then swept with his nose in the air.

"That was unpleasant," Alma said.

"That's Malfoy for you."

  
  


—

  
  


It was evening by the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and what had started as a light drizzle on the way there had turned into a fine mist. Kanda and Alma pushed their way through the throng of students, following close to Potter.

"Are you meant to go with the first years?" Longbottom asked, gesturing to where the smallest children were being gathered together and herded onto little boats.

Alma shook his head.

"We've already been Sorted," he said.

"Alright then," Longbottom said. "C'mon, the carriages are this way."

He led them through the crowd, but Kanda stopped. Potter was dawdling, craning his neck and peering through the fog.

"What's wrong?" Kanda asked under his breath. As far as he could tell, there were only students around them, and the one teacher overseeing the ones getting onto boats. Nothing out of place.

"Hagrid," Potter muttered back. "He's usually the one who helps the first years."

Hagrid, the half-giant teacher, Kanda remembered. Currently on assignment for the Order of the Phoenix, but clearly no one had told Potter that. This boy was the focal point of their plans, and they kept him in the dark. Of course they did.

Kanda said nothing, rolling his eyes instead. He prodded Potter toward the carriages none-too-gently.

"It's fine," he said. "Keep moving."

"It's fine?" Potter asked. "D'you — d'you know something?"

Kanda prodded him harder.

"Keep _moving._ "

Alma was waiting for them by the line of carriages, but Longbottom seemed to have gone ahead.

Alma raised an eyebrow. _Problem?_

Kanda shook his head, but Potter had stopped again.

"What now?" Kanda asked.

Potter just shook his head.

"The carriages. They always pulled themselves before."

The carriages were not, in fact, pulling themselves. Standing between the carriage shafts were large, leathery creatures, bony and winged. If Kanda hadn't spent the last nine years fighting akuma, he might even have said they were grotesque.

"It's a magic school and you're surprised by magic horses?" Kanda asked.

" _That's_ a horse?" Alma asked. "I thought horses were meant to be more majestic. And that they didn't have wings."

Kanda winced. Right. Alma had never seen a horse.

"Not a normal horse," Kanda said. "Magic horse."

"Magic horse? You mean a unicorn?" And that was the youngest Weasley boy again. He'd emerged from the throng of students who were pushing and shoving to get into the carriages.

Potter snorted.

"I dunno what those are, but they're definitely not unicorns."

"What what are?" asked Weasley.

"The things pulling the carriages," Potter said.

Weasley frowned, casting a strange look between the slowly dwindling row of carriages and Potter.

"There's nothing pulling the carriages," he said, confused.

Kanda shared a look with Alma, who shrugged. There were definitely horses. Horse-like things. Were magic horses sometimes invisible? That wasn't in the mission file.

Potter gaped at Ron.

"There's — they're right there!" Potter said.

"Mate," Ron said, "are you alright?"

The mystery of the horse creatures was quickly left behind when Granger ushered them into a carriage. Ron shot Potter dubious looks as they climbed in, and Potter kept looking between the horse creatures and Alma and Kanda, but none of them said any more as the carriage doors shut.

The castle came into view slowly. It was an entirely different creature through the evening mists than it was when Kanda had seen it last, in the daylight. It wasn't menacing like the singular tower of the old headquarters. Instead, the lights in its windows were warm and cheery, and it looked alive in a way it hadn't during the day. It looked, and Kanda couldn't believe he was thinking it, magical. The carriages jangled to a stop in front of the stone entryway, the huge oak doors open to admit the arriving students. Potter got out of the carriage first, and went immediately to look at the horse creatures again as everyone else started in. Kanda rolled his eyes, but before he could prod Potter into moving, Alma spoke.

"Shouldn't we be going inside?" Alma said.

Potter blinked.

"Er. Yeah. Right."

Potter cast a last glance at the creatures, before hurrying up the steps to where Granger and Weasley were waiting, both with matching looks of concern. Kanda and Alma followed the three through the large entrance hall and into another hall, this one set out with four long tables and lit by hundreds of candles floating in the air.

Alma let out a startled breath.

"You can see the stars!" he whispered, jerking his chin toward the ceiling.

Kanda looked up. You could, indeed, see the stars. He had to tug at Alma's wrist to get him moving again, and eventually they found their seats to one side of Potter.

"You know where Hagrid is, don't you?" Potter hissed as soon as they sat down.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"I told you, it's fine," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Weasley hissed. "Is it, y'know, for the Order —"

Kanda shot him a quelling look. If this was how they treated what little information they knew, talking about their secret organization in the middle of a crowded room, then it was no wonder they weren't allowed into the actual meetings.

"Now's not really the time, don't you think?" Alma said sweetly.

Weasley swallowed.

They were saved any further attempts at questioning when the doors to the hall opened again, this time admitting the first year students, led by a stern witch who carried a stool and a hat. A hush fell across the room as the witch set the stool down in front of the staff table and placed the hat on top of it. And then the most ridiculous thing that had happened all day — and the day had began with a man turning into a dog and chasing cats — the hat began to sing.

Alma stifled a laugh in his fist, his other hand gripping at the side of Kanda's robes beneath the table, as if to say _can you believe this?_

Kanda had to bite back a smile of his own. The rest of the room was listening intently to the hat's song, and applauded when it ended.

" _Yuu_ ," Alma whispered. "The hat—!"

But the witch was sending a scorching look across the room, and Alma quieted with the rest of the students, although his shoulders still shook and he kept a hand over his mouth throughout the tedious process of the Sorting. Throughout the meal, he would catch Kanda's eye and duck his head to giggle.

Alma had laughed more in the last week than in all the months since North America, the tightness mostly gone from his eyes. Even when someone spilled juice down the table and onto the edge of Kanda's robes, he couldn't help but think _that sound is worth this._

  
  


—

  
  


Later that night, Kanda and Alma snuck out of the boys' dormitory and back down into the common room. They'd had to wait until the other boys were all asleep, and now it was nearing midnight. The common room was empty at this hour, the fires nearly gone out. The riot of gold and red was muted in the moonlight.

Alma took a seat on one of the couches with a heavy sigh.

"So that was something, huh?"

Kanda huffed. He sat down and threw an arm around Alma's shoulders, some of his tension draining when Alma nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Umbridge is going to be a problem," Kanda said.

Alma hummed in agreement.

Dumbledore had promised them free reign to search for the Innocence, as long as they avoided being caught by the other teachers. But judging by Umbridge's speech at the feast, it might not be up to Dumbledore for long.

"It makes sense, I guess," said Alma. "I can't believe it hadn't happened sooner."

Kanda couldn't either. A building full of powerful children, open to influence; it was no wonder that the Wizarding government wanted control over the school.

"Fucking inconvenient though," Kanda said.

Alma hummed again.

"We'll just have to be more careful," he said, "and get as much searching done as soon as possible. The classes will be a pain."

"I can't believe we have to attend _class,_ " Kanda said.

Alma huffed a small laugh, his breath tickling Kanda's neck.

"Maybe you'll like it," he said.

Kanda scoffed. He hadn't liked it when Tiedoll tried to tutor him, as a child, but back then he was grieving and full of rage. Still, he couldn't imagine the classes wizard children attended would teach him anything he needed to learn, and he wasn't looking forward to spending even more time with the children in question.

"Maybe I'll kill someone," he said. "I'm so sick of these fucking brats."

Earlier that evening, Potter had almost come to blows with one of the other boys in the dorm, Finnegan. Finnegan had insulted Potter's character, Potter had insulted Finnegan's mother, and then they were yelling at each other at the tops of their lungs. Just the thought of a whole year of _that_ was enough to give Kanda a headache.

"Maybe that's just how normal children are," he said.

 _Fuck normal children,_ Kanda thought. Instead of saying that, though, he said, "You didn't have to stick up for Potter. That's not our job."

Alma had stepped in when Wealsey and Finnegan had gotten into each other's faces. He'd put a hand on both their shoulders and moved them apart with gentle but insistent force.

"Oh don't tell me you believe this rubbish too!" Finnegan had said, shaking Alma's hand off.

Alma had shrugged.

"I've never read the _Daily Prophet_ ," Alma had said, "so I can't say if what they're saying is true or not."

"Well it's not!" Potter had yelled. "Not the stuff they're saying about me or Dumbledore!"

"You-Know-Who can't be back," Finnegan had spat. "So either you're mad or you're liars, and either way the _Prophet_ 's right!"

Potter had vaulted off his bed, but Alma had stuck a hand out toward him to keep him from getting closer.

"What's the harm in preparing like he is back?" Alma had asked. "You lose nothing by being more careful."

Finnegan had whirled around, a look of outrage and disbelief on his face, and flung himself into his own bed. He'd drawn the curtains closed with a furious tug and said nothing more.

The silence that had descended on the room then was awkward to say the least. Alma had sighed and sat himself at the foot of Kanda's bed, where Kanda had been watching, obviously unamused. He'd only shrugged when Kanda had raised an eyebrow at him.

"That boy was cruel because he's afraid," Alma said now. "I'm tired of that."

He would be. In the months between Alma waking up and Komui sending them on this mission, there had been whispers. People who blamed Alma for the death and destruction at the North American Branch, people who thought he was some sort of evil monster, people who thought he should be put down and who weren't afraid to say it. Being called a crazy liar wasn't much compared to that, but it was no surprise that Alma took issue.

"Softie," Kanda said, but it came out fond.

Eventually they would have to go back to the dorm. Kanda would prod Alma awake, and they would go upstairs and to their separate beds. For now though, Kanda let himself bury his face in Alma's messy hair and breathe him in, his body still wondrously warm and whole against Kanda's own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't supposed to post this until i finished writing chapter 3, but then my country got hit by a super typhoon and whole provinces are underwater. i'm fine but i've been helping with relief efforts and haven't had much time to write, so chapter 3 is a long time coming. instead, i thought i'd post chapter 2 now and use this platform to signal boost relief efforts. if you'd like more information on what happened and how you can help, please check out https://twitter.com/YACAPhilippines
> 
> thanks yall.

Breakfast was an exercise in patience. The night before, everyone had been too focused on Umbridge to care about Hogwarts' first ever transfer students, but that certainly wasn't the case come morning.

Kanda and Alma followed Potter and his friends through the Great Hall, and stares and whispers followed them all. Some were definitely directed at Potter, but Kanda could feel the eyes on his back. They were allowed to sit and begin their meal in peace, but even Kanda's glare couldn't keep the gawkers at bay.

"You look a little old to be fifth years," one girl said eventually.

Kanda's grip tightened on his fork. He glanced at Alma, but he was too busy piling his plate up with everything he could reach. Instead of answering, Kanda narrowed his eyes at the girl.

"I mean," she continued, undeterred, "you look like you could be seventh years, or even out of school. How come you're in our year?"

"We haven't taken our OWLs yet," Alma said smoothly, barely looking up from the pancakes and bacon he was shoveling into his mouth. "Stop glaring, Yuu, or your face will get stuck."

The girl tittered.

"Didn't you have OWLs were you studied last?" she asked.

"Not — not quite," Alma said. "We uh."

"We were privately tutored," Kanda said.

"Really? I thought everyone went to Hogwarts," she said.

"Obviously not," Kanda said.

He turned his attention back to his own meal in clear dismissal. The spread at the Gryffindor table was impressive, but most of it was too rich for his tastes. He focused on his own pancakes, completely plain, unlike Alma's which were drowning in syrup.

"What was it like?" she continued, "And how come you stopped?"

Kanda's eye twitched.

Alma blinked.

"Well—" he stopped. They hadn't bothered on the finer details of their cover story. Even the part about not taking their OWLs yet had been Dumbledore's addition.

"Shove off, Lavender," Granger snapped from Kanda's side. "Let them eat in peace." She had a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ out in front of her, but she too was glaring at the girl — Lavender, apparently.

Lavender sniffed.

"I'm just trying to make friends," she said.

Granger rolled her eyes.

"Oh yes, and you were bothering me all last night about them just because you want to _make friends_ , and certainly not because you think they're fit." she said.

Lavender flushed red.

Alma dropped his fork, his own cheeks coloring.

Kanda barely kept from groaning. He knew, objectively, that he was good-looking. Younger scientists and other support staff had made eyes at him before, tried to sit with him at meals or engage him in conversation. He'd been coldly disinterested, harshly dismissive, or downright cruel in turns, too focused on _that person_ to make other attachments. And he had eyes, he could see the cut of Alma's jaw, the breadth of his shoulders that even the shapeless robes couldn't hide. He wasn't stupid enough to think he was the only person who would notice. The last thing they needed, though, was a bunch of teenagers keeping an eye on them just because they had a crush.

"That's, um. Well. Thank you?" Alma said.

He looked desperately at Kanda, as if asking what to do. Kanda gave a small shrug.

"We're not interested," he said blandly, not bothering to look at Lavender.

The people around them snickered.

Lavender spluttered, then stood up and left.

"Merlin, Hermione," Weasley said.

Granger tossed her head.

"You didn't hear her going on last night," she said, "about how handsome and mysterious they were and didn't I sit with them, what are they _like_?"

Alma was still shooting desperate looks at him. "Yuu?"

Kanda shrugged.

"You can't help being handsome and mysterious," he said with a smirk.

Alma shoved him, hard.

"Don't worry about it," Kanda said.

Alma pursed his lips a little, but went back to eating. Sometimes, Kanda forgot that Alma didn't have the nine years of experience he did. Kanda had made sure he knew about the birds and the bees after he woke up, but this was the first time anyone had ever expressed interest in Alma, aside from Kanda himself. They'd talk about it later, privately, but for now Alma trusted him enough to set it aside.

After breakfast, they followed the rest of the Gryffindor fifth years to History of Magic, which was apparently taught by a ghost, because why the fuck not. The lesson itself was unimportant and unremarkable, and he and Alma spent it lightly dozing at the back of the classroom. After that, it was Potions, which turned out to be just fancy cooking, and didn't require anything more involved than following instructions. The teacher was the same sallow-faced man who'd escorted them the week before, but he made no indication of knowing them. In fact, he hardly acknowledged them at all, focusing his attention on the other Gryffindor students. He prowled between the work benches, scowling down his nose and giving pointed criticism, often accompanied with questions about the students' mental faculties. He startled Longbottom so badly that the boy nearly upended his own cauldron.

Kanda's only other experience as a student was as Tiedoll's apprentice. Tiedoll had been infuriatingly patient with his moods, had taught him how to redirect his rage into fighting and how to center himself with mediation. He'd taught Kanda three languages, how to survive in the wilderness, and basic field medicine, along with how to fight akuma. It had been years of brutal training, but every second of it ensured Kanda was better equipped to survive. And through it all, Tiedoll had been kind, always gentle when he corrected Kanda's stance and offering encouragement even as he threw Kanda to the ground over and over again.

Snape was not like that. Snape was so far from that that Alma was shaking with rage halfway through the class, and Kanda had to put a hand on his arm several times to calm him.

Toward the end of the class, though, Snape honed in on Potter.

"Tell me, Potter, can you read?" Snape asked.

There was a laugh from the other side of the classroom. Kanda didn't even bother stopping himself from rolling his eyes. Wizards, apparently, didn't age out of petty bullshit.

Alma's hand was white-knuckled around his phial.

Snape flicked his wand, and Potter's potion vanished.

The phial shattered.

Kanda swore.

"Language!" Snape snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor!" Then his eyes caught on Alma's bleeding hand. "What in Merlin's name —"

"He broke his phial," Kanda said brusquely, "it's fine."

He took a rag from the work bench and used it to cover Alma's hand. It wouldn't stop the bleeding, but it would keep people from seeing his skin knit back together.

Alma seemed to come back to himself at the touch. He blinked rapidly, his face twisted in what Kanda hoped looked like pain to everyone else. When their eyes met, Alma's were glassy but furious.

"Take him to the hospital wing then," Snape said dismissively. "As for the rest of you, why aren't your potions on my desk?"

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the students rushed to bottle their potions. Kanda saw Potter duck out of the room, and tugged Alma out as well. Instead of going to the hospital wing though, wherever that was, Kanda brought them to an empty bathroom and locked the door behind them.

Alma's hand had already started to heal, his skin pushing out the shards of glass as the cuts slowly closed. He let Kanda put his hand under a faucet, and they stood in silence, broken only by the sound of the tap running and the gentle _plink_ of glass on ceramic.

Eventually, Kanda said, "You need to work on your temper."

Alma scowled.

"He was just so — so—!"

There was that softness again. As children, Alma had always been slow to anger and quick to forgive, definitely the better-humored between the two of them. Now, it seemed they had reversed.

"Don't waste time being angry about what you can't change," Kanda said.

"I could beat him up," Alma said, still scowling. "He'd change then."

Alma could break Snape in half if he really wanted to, no doubt.

Kanda shook his head.

"Then we'd get fake-expelled and have to go back early," he said.

Alma's scowl deepened.

Kanda huffed. He poked a finger at the furrow between Alma's brows and said, "Your face will get stuck. Let's go."

Alma's lips twitched up, a little reluctantly, and they made their way out of the bathroom and to the Great Hall. When they got there, lunch was well under way, and Potter was still fuming into his plate.

"Oh, are you alright?" Granger asked as they approached.

"Good as new," Alma said, holding up his hand. It was still a little wet, but there wasn't even any pinkness to suggest he'd been hurt.

They took their seats.

"Is Professor Snape always like that?" Alma asked.

Granger nodded.

"Worse, sometimes," said Potter.

"Can't you — y'know — _do_ something about him?" Weasley asked. "I mean, you're here to protect Harry, and Snape really has it out for him." He at least had the presence of mind to lower his voice.

Kanda snorted.

"Protect him from Dark wizards," Kanda said, "not from school teachers."

"There's _no way_ Snape isn't Dark," Weasley said. "No matter what Dumbledore says."

Kanda shrugged, nonchalant.

"Not our job," he said.

"What would we even do?" Alma asked. "We can't exactly beat him up." His gaze slid to Kanda as he spoke, and he sounded very disappointed.

Weasley and Potter laughed.

"What I'd give to see that."

  
  


—

  
  


Kanda and Alma wandered off after lunch, and Harry only saw them again before Defense.

"You're not coming with us?" Harry had asked as the two Exorcists broke from him and Ron outside the Great Hall.

"We're only required to take the core classes," Alma had said.

"So you've just got the period free?" Ron had asked. "Lucky."

Kanda had rolled his eyes. Alma had smiled. Between the two of them, Harry definitely preferred Alma, who had stuck up for him with Seamus the night before, and who seemed more than willing to fistfight Snape.

"Well see you in the Defense class," Alma had said, and then he and Kanda had disappeared.

They were already in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom by the time Harry and Ron arrived, seated at the table behind Hermione. They both looked a little rumpled, their uniforms just slightly askew, and there was definitely dirt on Alma's face, which he was halfheartedly trying to wipe off.

"What'd you get up to, then?" Ron asked.

"None of your business," Kanda said.

"Just explored the castle a little," Alma said. "It's a strange building, isn't it?"

Harry was abruptly reminded of what Sirius had said. _I'd bet they have their own agenda in sending Exorcists to Hogwarts_ _._ Did the Exorcists have some interest in the school? Or did the two of them really just spend their free period exploring out of curiosity?

Before Harry could ask, though, Umbridge entered the classroom.

Then everything went to shit.

  
  


—

  
  


The rest of the week passed in a haze of exhaustion and pain. He didn't have time to think about what the Exorcists were doing in their free periods, or what the _Prophet_ was saying about him or Dumbledore. He barely had time to eat in between all the homework he had to do and the detentions. By Friday, after four detentions with Umbridge, Harry couldn't bring himself to celebrate Ron becoming Keeper. He was happy for his friend, sure, but the pain in his scar had unsettled him, and he wanted to get up to the dorm and deal with his hand before anyone else noticed it was bleeding. He kept his hand cradled close to his chest as he made his way up the stairs to the dorm.

"The whole castle's magic, where are we even — oh, hi, Harry."

Harry froze in the doorway. Kanda and Alma were on Kanda's bed, Alma sprawled out on his back holding a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ up above him. Kanda was seated at the foot, another book open on his lap, but his eyes were on Harry. His intense, wary gaze held Harry in place. Harry got the feeling that whatever they were talking about, it wasn't just homework.

"Er, hi," he choked out. "You're not at the party?"

Kanda scoffed and rolled his eyes. Harry suddenly felt like he could breathe again.

"It's not exactly our place," Alma said, swinging himself upright. "Why aren't you?"

"Er, well —"

But Alma's easy expression had slid off his face, and he was staring at Harry's hand.

"Harry," Alma said, "what's wrong with your hand?"

Harry dropped his hand.

"It's — it's nothing," he stammered. He tried to bolt for the ensuite, but that brought him past Kanda's bed, and Alma caught his wrist as he passed.

Alma held Harry's hand up, and in the cheery light of the dormitory, the words _I must not tell lies_ glistened a nasty red. The cuts were still bleeding sluggishly, staining the white of his uniform sleeve.

"Jesus," Kanda said.

"This isn't nothing," Alma said.

Harry tried to tug his hand back, but Alma's grip was firm.

"Just detention with Umbridge," Harry muttered.

"Is this what _doing lines_ looks like in a magic school?" Alma asked.

He could lie, Harry realized. Alma and Kanda weren't Hogwarts students, not really, and they didn't know how punishment worked here.

"No," he said. The word was out of his mouth before he'd even agreed to say it. "She — she has a special quill."

Alma was quiet, but his hold on Harry's wrist tightened.

"Look, it's _nothing_ ," Harry snapped. "What do you care anyway? It's not your job to protect me from school teachers, isn't that what you said?"

"There is a difference," Alma hissed, his mouth twisted, "between someone belittling you and someone forcing you to cut words into your own hand!"

The quiver in Alma's voice, Harry realized, was rage. It was so incongruous with the image of Alma giggling at the Sorting Hat's song, or grinning as he piled a mountain of food onto his breakfast plate, that whatever Harry wanted to say was lost.

"I'll fucking hill her," Alma continued. "That's torture! She's torturing you!"

"Alma," Kanda said, his voice low. He touched Alma's wrist. His eyes were focused on the cuts, on Harry, and in contrast to Alma's trembling fury, he was very still. "Let's just clean him up, alright?"

Alma swallowed. He nodded. He got up from the bed and tugged Harry along to the ensuite. Alma sat him down on the toilet. Kanda followed a moment later with a roll of gauze and a jar of cream, which he handed to Alma. The two exchanged a look, then Kanda nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

"You don't have to worry," Alma said. "Even if someone comes up, Yuu won't let them in."

"A-alright."

Alma rolled Harry's sleeve up. Harry watched as he took a clean hand towel and wet it in the sink. Harry hissed when he started to daub at the cuts.

"How long has this been going on?" Alma asked.

"Since the first detention," Harry said.

"And you haven't told anyone?"

"Ron knows," Harry said. He could hear the defensiveness in his own voice. Hadn't he been the one to tell Ron not to say anything? But under Alma's scrutiny that suddenly felt like the wrong decision, and something unpleasant curled in his gut.

Silence fell between them and Harry let the repetitive motion of Alma's hands soothe him. He didn't even realize Alma's shoulders were shaking until he heard him sniff wetly.

"Alma?"

Alma dropped his hand to scrub at his own face.

Harry paled.

"Hey, no don't — I'm alright," he said, suddenly flustered. "You don't have to cry!"

"It's not —" Alma sniffed again. "I'm _pissed,_ Harry! I cry when I'm pissed, it's the worst."

Harry made a relieved noise.

"It's not a big deal," he said.

"Yes it is!" Alma hissed. He swiped once more at his eyes before taking Harry's hand again. "You're a child. Your teacher shouldn't be fucking _torturing_ you."

"I'm not a child!" Harry hissed back. Alma barely had four years on him, who was he to call Harry a child? Hadn't he faced down a horde of Dementors on his own? Hadn't he fought Voldemort, thrice?

"You are though," Alma said. His voice was steadier as he spread the cream over Harry's cuts and began to wrap the gauze around his palm.

"You guys aren't that much older than me," Harry said mulishly.

Alma shrugged.

"We're old enough," he said.

When they exited the bathroom, Kanda was indeed standing guard at the door. He frowned when he saw the tear tracks on Alma's cheeks. He brought a hand up to his face, touching a finger to just under Alma's eye. Harry cut his eyes away, suddenly uncomfortable.

Alma batted Kanda's hand away. He turned to Harry.

"Sorry we can't do healing magic," he said, "but at least you won't get infected."

Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Er. Thanks."

Alma quirked a smile.

"Technically it's our job," he said.

Kanda snorted in response, which Harry thought was pretty fair. Protecting him from Dark wizards wasn't exactly the same as patching him up after a detention.

"Dumbass," Kanda muttered. "C'mon, back to work." He nudged Alma's shoulder back toward his bed.

Harry saw them settle again out of the corner of his eye as he changed into his pajamas. It was early still, but he was exhausted, from the week and from detention and from whatever it was that had passed between him and Alma in the bathroom. He barely managed to shift himself under the covers and draw his curtains before he felt himself drifting off.

"It's just so pointlessly cruel," Alma whispered. There was a rustle of papers and sheets. "At least with us there was a reason."

Kanda made a humming noise, but whatever he said, Harry didn't catch, already asleep.

  
  


—

  
  


Saturday morning, Kanda got up with the sun, as he normally did, and dressed in the quiet. He heard more than saw Alma rise and dress as well, but said nothing. Instead, he knelt and pulled a candle from the bottom of his trunk.

"Yuu?"

"We'll have a few hours before everyone's up," Kanda said. "We're going to meditate."

Alma groaned, but followed Kanda out of the dorm and down to the common room.

"I'm _bad_ at it though," Alma said.

He was. He'd tried to join Kanda a few times before, but could never sit still.

"You'll get better," Kanda said.

He cleared them a small space in the corner of the common room where they weren't likely to be noticed. The common room wasn't the most ideal place for this, but Kanda didn't know if they would be able to use any of the empty classrooms for this and he didn't want to ask. With the rest of Gryffindor House asleep for the foreseeable future, they'd at least get some time with the room to themselves.

He sat, and raised an eyebrow until Alma threw himself down with a sigh.

"Why are you making me do this?" Alma asked.

"Temper, remember?" Kanda said, setting the candle between himself and Alma.

"You want me to not be angry?" Alma asked, baffled.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"It's not about not being angry," Kanda said, repeating the words Tiedoll had said to him years before. "It's about control."

They spent the next thirty minutes on basic breathing exercises before Alma gave up, groaning as he tipped back onto the floor.

"You're better already," Kanda said, blowing out the candle.

"I don't understand how you do this," Alma said, his nose scrunched up.

Kanda shrugged.

"Practice," he said. "Patience."

Alma rolled his eyes. He'd never been good at patience.

The meditation session had gone well enough, though, and Alma was still breathing deeply where he was splayed out on the carpet. He'd changed since they left headquarters, and it was painfully obvious in this moment how tense and unhappy he'd been. Now, laid out on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, his long limbs were loose, his mouth settled into a small smile. The sunlight turned him golden, here. When he turned to look at Kanda, the carpet fluff caught in his hair. The miracle of him was warm against Kanda's palm when he reached out and squeezed at his ankle.

"Everyone thinks you're so scary," Alma said, "but I know better."

Kanda shoved at him, but he only laughed, bright as morning.

They spent the rest of the weekend in the bowels of the castle, trying to find its foundations. According to _Hogwarts: A History_ , the school had started out as a smaller building, and sections were added on as the student population grew. If the magic that imbued the castle was Innocence, and that magic had been at Hogwarts since the beginning, then it was likely that the Innocence would be worked into the foundations somehow. At least, that was the theory. _Hogwarts: A History_ didn't mention which parts of the castle were built first, though, and by Sunday evening, they'd only found the kitchens and a few twisting passageways that led out to the grounds, seemingly unused for decades.

Granger eyed them when they showed up for dinner after a fruitless search of the dungeons.

"Have you done any of your homework?" she asked critically.

Alma paused in the middle of spooning gravy over his peas.

"No," he said. "We've been busy."

Granger made a disparaging noise.

"You're worse than those two!" she said, gesturing to Potter and Weasley, who were scribbling even as they ate.

Kanda gave her a flat look and she seemed to shrink in on her self under the weight of his gaze.

"You remember we're not actually students, don't you?" he asked.

But Alma made a thoughtful noise.

"We probably should," he said. "Not all the teachers know, after all."

And so they ended up spending the evening in the Gryffindor common room, writing essays about Jupiter and incantations and practicing small magics. Tiedoll had never given Kanda _homework_ when he was an apprentice. Lessons had been constant and practical, with no such thing as weekends off. Lessons for normal children — even if they were magical children — were structured very differently, and without the constant threat of death to motivate them to learn.

The spellcasting at least could be useful. Calling the magic out was as instinctual as summoning Mugen from his blood, and was far more versatile than a sword. When he'd ever need to cast a Silencing spell in battle was beyond him, but things like Vanishing spells, if they worked on akuma, would be invaluable. He'd assumed that the Defense class would be the least waste of time, but that had been shot to shit the second Umbridge told them to put their wands away. The other classes would have no application for him either, and he did the work with as little care as possible. Despite this, it took until nearly midnight for them to finish their essays. They left Potter, Weasley, and Granger hunched over a table by the fireplace, and went upstairs.

The dorm room was dark, the curtains drawn around the other three beds.

Kanda raised an eyebrow but said nothing when Alma joined him on his bed.

"Can I do your hair?" Alma asked.

Kanda passed him his hair brush.

They settled, Kanda seated on the edge of the bed and Alma cross-legged behind him. Alma was silent as he began running the brush through Kanda's hair.

Eventually, Alma said, "Should I grow mine out?"

Kanda shrugged, careful not to disrupt the rhythm of Alma's hands.

"If you want," he said.

"I had long hair before," Alma said, voice still quiet. "You liked it long."

"You never had long hair," Kanda said.

"I mean, _before_ before," Alma said.

"No," Kanda said with a little more force, "you didn't. _She_ did."

"We're the same person," Alma said.

"You're not _her_ any more than I'm _him_ _,_ " Kanda said. "You're just you."

Alma's hands faltered and stilled, fisted against Kanda's back.

"I don't know what that _means_ , Yuu," Alma said plaintively.

Kanda shrugged again.

Alma made a small, wounded noise, his head falling to rest between Kanda's shoulder blades. His breath shuddered out of him, ragged and loud in the sleepy silence of the dorm room.

"I don't know who I am if i'm not _her,_ " he said.

"You're _you_ , okay," Kanda said. "You just — they just never let you figure that out."

"I hate them," Alma snarled. "I fucking hate them so much."

"Yeah," Kanda sighed.

"I wish we could just stay here," Alma said. "We could do the classes and just be wizards."

"You know we can't," Kanda said.

Alma swallowed, his arms going around Kanda's waist.

"Yeah," he said, "I know."

He didn't unbury himself from where he was curled into Kanda's back, the warmth of him seeping into Kanda's skin. Kanda tipped his head back to rest on top of Alma's, breathing out. They stayed like that for a long, long while.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to unforeseen circumstances, this chapter is much later than expected lmao sorry. i wanted to time this so the christmas chapter (chapter 4) got posted at christmas, but oh well.
> 
> also i am distinctly Not British and idk if "poof/ter" counts as a slur? but fair warning ron is a little like,, casually homophobic in this. it's very brief and he doesn't mean to be malicious and also hermione shoots him down quick.

The second Monday of term was just as terrible as the first for Harry, starting with a D on his Potions essay and ending with another week's worth of detention with Umbridge.

"You're sure you don't want to tell McGonagall?" Ron asked at diner that evening. "She'd go ballistic if she knew."

"And how long before Umbridge decides that anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked?" Harry asked.

Ron said nothing more, but he was clearly unhappy as he went back to eating. Hermione, on the other hand, was glaring at Alma and Kanda.

"Aren't you going to do something?" she demanded.

Alma made a humming noise, once again piling his plate high. It was comically stacked compared to Kanda's own modest portion.

"You're here to protect Harry," Hermione hissed under her breath, "so protect him!"

"Leave it, Hermione," Harry said. "What're they even supposed to do?"

"We'll be doing something," Alma said breezily in between hurried bites.

Harry blinked. What? Sure, Alma had been furious when he learned about what detention with Umbridge actually entailed, but he hadn't said anything when Umbridge gave him more at the end of their Defense lesson. And as for Kanda, well. Harry got the impression that all of Hogwarts was beneath him.

"Oh, alright then," Hermione said, mollified.

"Alma," Kanda said, a hint of warning in his voice.

"Yuu," Alma said back.

Something Harry couldn't identify passed between them, then Kanda let out an exaggerated sigh.

"You better know what you're doing," he said.

Alma flashed a smile.

"Time to go," he said, "or you'll be late."

Alma and Kanda walked Harry to the Defense classroom, but Alma tugged at Kanda's hand when he went to follow Harry in.

Both Kanda and Harry stopped.

"We'll be with you later, okay, Harry?" Alma said.

"What?" Harry asked. "I thought...?"

Alma made a small, frustrated noise.

"We can't exactly just go in there and kill Umbridge," Alma said. He absolutely sounded like he wanted to do just that.

"Alma," Kanda said warningly.

"I'm controlling my anger and using it productively," Alma said, "isn't that what you wanted?"

He tugged more firmly at Kanda's hand, leading him away. He gave Harry a jaunty wave as they disappeared down the corridors.

Harry watched them walk away, his stomach sinking. His feet felt leaden as he walked to Umbridge's office. He was aware, distantly, of knocking.

"Come in!"

Her voice sent Harry's skin crawling.

"Good evening," Harry said.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said sweetly, "you know what to do."

The quill and parchment were already laid out on her desk.

Harry sat. He picked up the quill. He began to write.

He kept his head down and his eyes on the parchment as the cuts on his hand reopened. He could feel Umbridge looking at him, but he grit is teeth. The sinking feeling in his gut hadn't stopped, but as the minutes ticked by, the feeling numbed, buried under the pain.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

Harry's head shot up.

Umbridge appeared just as shocked as he did, frozen in her seat. The door opened before she could rise, and there was Dumbledore, smiling genially in the doorway.

"Headmaster!" Umbridge tittered, "I wasn't expecting you!"

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Dolores," he said. "I had hoped the rumors of improper detention practices were untrue."

Umbridge snatched the quill and parchment from Harry, but there was no hiding his bleeding hand.

"I am within my rights as a professor to punish students as I see fit!" she said.

"Within reason," Dumbledore said. "The use of a Blood Quill is beyond that."

"As Hogwarts High Inquisitor —!"

Dumbledore raised a hand, and she stopped.

"Your position as High Inquisitor does not supersede mine as Headmaster," he said. "And it does not give you the authority to physically harm students."

Umbridge spluttered, her face turning red.

"It is your right to give Mr. Potter detention, and so he will continue to serve them," Dumbledore continued. "But you will surrender the Blood Quill to me, and I will be ensuring his well-being after every detention."

He extended his hand for the quill.

Harry watched in disbelief as Umbridge reluctantly handed it over.

Dumbledore tucked it into his robes.

"Good evening then, Dolores," he said, then swept out.

There was silence while Umbridge visibly composed herself.

"That will be all for tonight, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said.

Harry quickly gathered his things, but stopped at the door.

"Do I need to come back tomorrow?"

"Oh yes," Umbridge said, the sweetness back in her voice. "You heard the Headmaster, you will continue to serve your detentions."

Alma and Kanda were waiting outside the Defense classroom, Kanda nonchalant and unbothered, but Alma grinned when Harry came out.

"You told Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"I said we'd do something," Alma said.

"...Thanks," Harry said.

Alma's smile widened.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"Part of the job," he said.

"Don't listen to him," Alma said, "he cares, really."

Kanda scowled, but didn't contradict him.

In fact, at 9:00 PM the next night, after a detention that consisted of writing lines with a normal quill, it was Kanda who knocked on Umbridge's office door.

"The Headmaster sent me to fetch Potter," he said drolly.

Umbridge let him go.

"Where's Alma?" Harry asked as they made their way back to Gryfifndor Tower. He'd never actually seen Kanda without Alma beside him.

"Busy," Kanda said.

_Busy_ turned out to mean Alma had been raiding the kitchens. He was eating a large sandwich when they arrived in the common room, with another on the table in front of him. Alma continued to be "busy" the rest of the week, so it was always Kanda who came to pick Harry up from detention. By Friday, the silence between them had stopped being painfully awkward and was just regular levels of awkward. He even got a careless wave when he told Alma and Kanda "goodnight."

Ron and Hermione were waiting up for them that Friday evening, and as Alma and Kanda disappeared up to the dorm, they pulled Harry to their usual set of armchairs.

"What?"

"I've been thinking, Harry," Hermione said under her breath, "that we need to do something about Umbridge."

  
  


—

  
  


In the end, Hermione is the one who asks the Exorcists.

They were cramming homework again — or rather, Harry and Ron were cramming, while Hermione made more elf hats — when Kanda and Alma climbed through the portrait hole and into the common room. The bell chimed nine o'clock just as the door swung shut.

They always did that, Harry realized. They were the first out of bed in the mornings and always returned just before curfew. It was as if they wanted to spend as little time in Gryffindor Tower as possible.

_Or as much time searching the castle,_ he thought.

Hermione had noticed them as well.

She got up quickly and intercepted them on their way to the boys' dorm. Harry watched as she shared a few words with Alma. Then the two Exorcists made their way to an unoccupied love seat far away from the other students, and Hermione made her way back to Harry and Ron, looking distinctly pleased.

"What was that about then?" Ron asked.

"I just asked them to stay until everyone else went to bed," Hermione said. "So we could talk to them about helping with the Defense group."

"Hermione!" Ron hissed.

"What?" she snapped back.

"You can't possibly trust them with that!" Ron said.

"They were at the Hog's Head," Harry said. "It's not like they don't already know."

This was true. Alma had casually informed them that he and Kanda would be coming along on their Hogsmeade trip at breakfast right before leaving the castle.

Ron, Harry remembered, had bristled at the idea.

"Says who?" he'd demanded, indignant in his oatmeal.

"It's literally _our job,_ " Kanda had said, rolling his eyes.

"If anyone's going to attack Harry," Alma said, "it'd be when he's out of the castle, say, on a trip to the local village." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

Nothing had happened in Hogsmeade, and Kanda and Alma had been silent throughout the meeting. That didn't mean they approved though.

"Knowing's different from actively participating!" Ron said. "You remember what Sirius said, we can't trust them!"

"They haven't actually given us a reason not to trust them," Hermione said. "They even stopped Umbridge from using that horrible qill on Harry, remember?"

Harry did. He himself hadn't been able to really be suspicious of them after that.

"They're always sneaking off though, or haven't you noticed?" Ron asked.

"We don't know what they're doing," Hermione said. "Maybe they're just having a snog."

Harry knocked over his ink bottle.

It took a moment for Hermione to charm the ink back, but there was no saving his or Ron's work. The charm took _all_ the ink away.

"Sorry," Hermione said.

"You think they're _snogging_?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged.

"They're clearly, you know, together," she said.

Ron made a disbelieving noise.

"They're not poofs," Ron said firmly.

"And you're so sure of that?" Hermione demanded.

"We're the ones who share a room with them," Ron said. "They never do anything... pooftery."

"There's no such thing as doing things pooftery," Hermione said derisively, "Don't be daft."

"They're just mates!" Ron said.

But Harry was thinking of the way Kanda had touched Alma's cheek, the night Alma treated his hand. He and Ron were mates, but he'd never done that with Ron. He thought of the way Kanda, who was normally standoffish and cold, let Alma catch his hand and tug him along. He didn't do that with Ron, either.

"Er," he said, "maybe she's right."

Ron spluttered.

"They — they've seen me starkers!"

Hermione rolled her eyes so hard that Harry was surprised they didn't fall out of her head.

"Don't flatter yourself," she said. "Why would they look at you when they could look at each other?"

Ron gaped at her, his cheeks flaming.

"Have _you_ been looking?" Ron demanded.

"There's nothing wrong with looking," Hermione sniffed. "I have eyes."

"And what do you mean, why would they look at me?" Ron asked. His embarrassment had turned to outrage.

"Can you not?" Harry asked. The last thing Harry needed was them arguing about whether or not Ron was attractive, because they'd drag him into it, and he didn't want any part of that at all.

Once the common room emptied out, Hermione led Harry and Ron over to where Kanda and Alma were sitting, heads bent over a piece of parchment that Kanda quickly shoved into his school bag when they approached.

"What did you want to talk about, Hermione?" Alma asked.

"You're soldiers, right?" Hermione asked. "You've fought in battles?"

Alma inclined his head.

"Yuu more than me," he said.

"Will you teach us?"

Kanda snorted. It was an unkind sound, and Hermione's face colored in response.

"I thought Potter was gonna teach you," he said.

"Well, yes, but — no offence, Harry — you two have experience, and real training, don't you?"

"And everyone says Exorcists are the best fighters out there. You're better than Aurors, you said so yourselves," Ron added.

"We don't really use spells," Alma said, "so I don't know what we could teach you there."

"You did magic I've never seen before," Harry said suddenly, eyes trained on Kanda.

Kanda raised an eyebrow, but Harry carried on, undeterred.

"When you killed the boggart over the summer," he said, "you made a sword out of nothing. No wand or incantation, either."

"That'd be dead useful," Ron said.

"That's not magic," Kanda said.

The three of them made a disbelieving noise, but Kanda just rolled his eyes.

"It's an Exorcist thing," Alma said. "It's not something we can teach you."

"Still," Hermione said, "you know how to fight, _really_ fight."

Alma hummed.

"It would be very physical," he said at length. "People would likely get injured. Would your classmates be okay with that?"

Kanda shot him a scathing look, but Alma just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Yuu," Alma said. "It couldn't be that bad. Besides, we haven't sparred in ages."

"Wait — so you'll do it? Really?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

Harry couldn't believe it either. He hadn't wanted to ask because he was sure they'd say no. It seemed that for all her bravado, Hermione had expected them to say no, too.

"We'll try," Alma said.

  
  


—

  
  


It took several days before the Defense group actually met for the first time, in a secret room that only sometimes existed. The more Kanda learned about the castle, the more it reminded him of the Ark — doorways that never led to the same room twice, rooms that only existed sometimes, staircases that did what they wanted, and all of it thrumming with power. Unlike the Ark, there was no one person who could control Hogwarts. And as far as they had learned, the castle's power came from layers upon layers of charms and wards cast over the centuries, enhanced by the ambient magic from generations of wizarding children. If there were more rooms like this one, then their search would be just that more difficult.

The first hour of the Defense lesson consisted of the students hurling the same spell at each other over and over, while both parties stood still. Neither he nor Alma participated. Alma browsed the Defense textbooks that the room had supplied, while Kanda prowled along the perimeter, trying to figure out the room itself. When that yielded no answers, he joined Alma in reading. Eventually, Potter called the room to stop.

"Well, er," he said, then cleared his throat.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"I was thinking that we should also learn like, physical fighting," Potter said.

"What for?" one of the other students said. "When're we ever gonna need that?"

Potter shot a desperate look to Granger and Weasley, as if he hadn't thought of that before.

"What if you don't have your wand?" Granger said gamely, and Potter nodded.

"I'd always have my wand!" the boy said. Kanda hadn't bothered to learn any names.

"What if you got disarmed?" Weasley said. "Wouldn't have your wand then, would you?"

Before the other boy could respond, Potter cleared his throat again.

"Look, it's not like you're always gonna know what you'll be attacked. We can't just depend on our wands all the time," he said.

"Er, Harry," said a girl. She was mousy looking, the only other East Asian in the room. "Do you know how to do that? Physical stuff?"

Potter colored.

"Not exactly," he said. "But it won't be me teaching, it'll be Alma and Kanda. Their... er... their tutor taught them."

All the eyes swiveled to the two of them.

Alma gave a small wave.

The same boy scoffed.

"I still don't see what use it'll be against someone with a wand," the boy said.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"I could take you down without a wand or a weapon," he said simply.

"Maybe you could demonstrate?" Granger piped up.

Kanda knew the expression on his face was something fearsome. Once, Lavi had told him to smile more. After he saw the feral expression that Kanda counted as a smile, he never said it again. As it was, the teenagers parted to let Kanda stride across the room.

"Potter," Kanda said, "on the mats, come on."

Potter jumped to attention.

"Er," he said, approaching. His wand was clutched almost hesitantly at his side. "Are you sure?"

Kanda rolled his eyes again.

"I said, on the mats. I won't be responsible for breaking you."

There was definite hesitation as Potter stepped onto the mats, stopping a few feet away from Kanda.

"I'll just... try to jinx you, alright?"

Kanda let out a noise of frustration.

"Cast the fucking spell, or I'll have someone else do it," he said.

He was fast, Kanda had to give him that, but in the time it took for Potter to get his wand up, Kanda was already halfway to him. He caught Potter's wrist easily, twisting it until it was behind his back and he dropped his wand. Then, it was only a matter of letting momentum carry them both to the ground. Kanda landed in a crouch, a knee against Potter's back, right below where he kept Potter's wrist pinned.

Potter let out a noise that was both pain and surprise, his glasses skittering across the floor. The sound of the metal on the mats echoed among the suddenly silent crowd.

Then, Alma clapped. The tension broke.

Kanda looked up at him to see him smiling, pleased, although the clapping seemed just a touch sarcastic. He let Potter go without preamble, leaving him to scramble to his feet. As Kanda walked off the mats, he made sure to lock eyes with that one boy from earlier. The boy swallowed, color draining from his face. Good.

"You didn't even slow down to let them see!" Alma said once he was close enough.

Kanda rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't that kind of demonstration," he said.

"Still! It could've been a learning opportunity!"

Potter, meanwhile, had righted himself, both wand and glasses retrieved.

"Unless anyone else has concerns," he said, "I'll let Alma and Kanda take over, alright?"

No one had concerns.

Alma clapped his hands together once, drawing everyone's attention.

"Okay," Alma said, "pair up!"

  
  


—

  
  


The Defense group continued like that through the weeks that followed, meeting at random times throughout the week and coordinated with Granger's Charmed coins. The first half of the evening, they practiced spellwork. Depending on what they were practicing, Kanda and Alma would pair up and join in. The second half, Potter handed control of the lessons to the two Exorcists. Kanda was content to let Alma take the reigns, himself serving as sparring partner or an extra set of hands while they ran through basic self-defense.

The Defense meetings came with two consequences: Firstly, they had less time to search the castle. This was fine. In the months since they arrived, they'd found nothing to indicate Innocence. The foundations they'd found at the heart of the castle thrummed with power, the old stones almost warm to the touch. In an abandonned girls' bathroom, they found a secret passageway that led to caverns deep below the castle, and the corpse of a giant snake-like creature rotting in the dark. None of it got even a twinge of recognition from their own Innocence. Their weekly reports to Komui had turned more into architectural observations, useful only if the Black Order ever planned to storm Hogwarts, and theoretical discussions on magic, less useful but an object of curiosity to the Science Department.

The second was that their carefully maintained distance from the other students was wearing down. This was less fine. Girls of all years were coming up to them in the hallways or in the Great Hall or even in the middle of the Defense meetings themselves to make eyes or invite them to study or, worst of all, ask if they could have private lessons. The more subtle flirtations were lost on Alma, who responded with the same careful friendliness he used in all interactions with the student body. The more obvious ones made him flush and stutter. Either way, Kanda felt the need to step in every time, declining any and all invitations.

Perhaps worse were the overtures of friendship.

"You er, you seem really good at Herbology," Longbottom had stuttered at him once, at the end of a meeting.

Kanda had huffed in response.

"It's just," Longbottom had continued, obviously disheartened by Kanda's lack of response, "if you want more advanced texts, for the midterm assignment, I could lend you some?"

Kanda had paused.

They were building terrariums for their Herbology midterm. Alma had been content enough to settle with the basic plants given, but Kanda has inquired about Eastern medicinal plants. For all that the lotuses had haunted him, he found that Herbology held an appeal almost like meditation. It was soothing, in its own way, to make things grow, and plants were infinitely more appealing when he could touch them.

"Sure," he'd said eventually. And later in the dorm room, Longbottom had handed him a few volumes on raising tropical plants in temperate climates, Eastern medicine, and common Eastern magical plants. He'd even let Kanda take a look at the Mimbulus mimbletonia he kept in a jar.

Alma had watched the exchange with a grin, and Kanda had _had_ to push him off the bed, just to get rid of his smugness.

And so it went. They attended classes, searched the castle, and taught teenagers not to die. Kanda began exchanging Herbology notes with Longbottom, much to Alma's delight. They did not find any trace of Innocence. The more the weeks passed, the more Kanda settled into the routine of being a Hogwarts student, even one part of a banned club. It would be easy, so easy, just to keep doing this. Keep being students, then graduate and join the rest of the Wizarding world, war or no war.

And then Potter dreamed he was a snake attacking Arthur Weasley, and the reality of their mission returned.


End file.
